Loose Lips and Sinking Ships
by lil-rock14
Summary: Post TSRtS. Sometimes, when Sam drank, he made all the sense in the world. One shot


**Loose Lips and Sinking Ships**

**Just a scene that I think could've happened after 5x13. Something about the episode wouldn't leave me alone. This is supposed to be just friendship, you know TEAM FREE WILL. But I guess it can be seen as pre-slash if you want to see it that way.**

Summary: Post TSRtS. Sometimes, when Sam drank, he made all the sense in the world. One shot

**Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the idea of the story. **

"You want to know something, Dean?" Sam spat out after slamming his shot glass onto the table.

Dean knew his brother was drunk. They had just taken their sixth shot. Dean had had two beers somewhere in between those six shots, but unlike his brother, he was just feeling the buzz. It made him relaxed and happy. He loved that no matter how big Sam got, he would always be able to drink him under the table.

Dean took a sip out of the beer in front of him. "What?" he asked. He liked to humor his brother while he was drunk, and listen to Sam's revelations. It was entertaining, because even when he was drunk, he was still able to articulate. He would've loved to see his brother try to win a case as a lawyer after a few beers.

"Cas is going to die."

Dean choked on the liquid in his throat. He coughed a few times, hitting his chest with a fist to help the liquid go down. "What?" Dean asked, when he was finally able to get a word out.

"Coughing blood is bad. You're going to kill him," Sam replied. He sounded like one of those creepy kids in the movie. All he needed to do was say what he was saying in a sings-song voice. He reached for the nearest bottle of alcohol. Dean slapped his hand away.

Dean's thoughts fast-forwarded five years, to the vision of his future self sending Castiel to his death so he could kill Lucifer.

Dean shook his head, trying to shake those thoughts from his head. "Why… why would you say that?" The words were enough to kill the buzz, as small as it was, he had.

"Because Cas doesn't know how to say no to you."

This was a risk that Dean took every time he tried to humor his brother. Sometimes, when Sam drank, he made all the sense in the world. Because with that statement, Sam was right and Dean was floored.

"Sam."

"He says no, you push him, he says yes. Even if it hurts him. Or could possibly kill him. He's like a guard dog. Or puppy. You're like a manipulative girlfriend. But not really. I mean, have you ever not gotten what you wanted from him?"

Dean wanted to say yes, but the more he thought about it, if he said yes, he would've been lying.

_Cas, tell me about the archangel so I can save Sam._

_Cas, tell me how to save Sam in the basement._

_Cas, disobey and turn your back on your brothers._

_Cas, we're going to get you laid._

_Cas, lead the charge in the building so I can find Lucifer and kill him._

_Cas, take us back to the past so that we can save our parents._

Past Castiel, present Castiel, and even future Castiel couldn't deny him. No matter what he asked of him. He would always put Dean before himself, and Dean took advantage of it too damn often. He ran his hand through his hair and took another swig from his beer. "No," he whispered, embarrassed with himself.

Sam scooted his chair back and stood up, swaying in place. Dean stood up and grabbed his brother's arm to steady him. "I mean, he's okay with sacrificing himself for you. He already died once."

Dean had an urge to just let his brother topple to the ground, but he wasn't going to injure his brother for being right. "Sam, shut up."

"Touchy subject," Sam mumbled.

"Stop talking," Dean said. "Time for bed."

"Can you at least pretend and act like you care about him?"

"I do," Dean growled, offended and defensively.

"No, you don't, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes, irritated. "Sam, you really want to argue with me when you're drunk?"

Dean pretty much dragged his brother to his bed, then dropped him. Sam flopped onto his bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. The room was suddenly too bright. "'S not arguing if I'm right, Dean."

"You _aren't _right."

"_You_ take him for granted. Like he's just a weapon and not a… person? Like he's invincible. Didn't even ask if he was okay after he was trapped by Lucifer."

Dean felt like he was just punched in the gut.

As messed up as the statement sounded, it was true. He didn't ask. He was so angry about Jo and Ellen. He was pissed that more people had to keep dying so that him and his brother could live. He hated that Jo had to die for him the same way that her dad died for his.

So, when Castiel told him that Lucifer had trapped him, he had already started shutting off his emotions. He barely reacted to the news at all. He come off like an ass, then went on with business as usual.

Dean wanted to say something, but Sam continued talking. "I know you were… are worried."

"I am," Dean said.

"It's okay to show it, you know."

"Not what I'm concerned with." Dean grabbed Sam's arm again and dragged him up so his head could rest on the pillows. When he let go of his brother, he looked over at the angel who laid on his side, sleeping.

Sam lifted his arm off of his face and saw his brother watching Castiel. "Dean, he's a friend. He's almost family. As much as you want to pretend that he isn't, he is. And he's one of the only people we have left. You have to remember that."

"I do."

"Then treat him like it." Sam sighed and stared the ceiling. "We keep making these choices. Thinking it's for the best. But it's not. And people keep dying or coming close. Cas is hurt, and for what?"

"You're still alive."

"But honestly, was any of it our doing?"

"Yes."

"But mom and dad still died. And Cas is still a comatose angel."

As if on cue, Castiel started coughing. He curled in on himself as his coughs became more violent. Dean rushed over to his side with the same damp towel he used to wipe the blood from his face earlier that day.

He tucked it under Castiel's head, hoping to prevent blood from getting on the sheets and pillowcases.

Dean wished he could do more than just watch as Castiel struggled, wheezed, and gasped for breath, all the while coughing up more blood. The most he could do was sit and provide whatever comfort he could. One hand rubbed Castiel's arm reassuringly while the other held the angel's hand.

Castiel squeezed Dean's hand every time the coughs became too much. Dean kept his eyes on their hands. He tried to imagine that Castiel's weak grasp was because he was holding back so he wouldn't hurt him, and not because he was weak, because it honestly felt like he was holding hands with a child.

After what felt like hours, when in reality it was only a few minutes, Castiel's breaths started to slow down and even out. He opened his eyes and made eye contact with Dean who stood over him. He looked at the source of dampness on his face and saw all the blood on the towel. "I'm sorry," Castiel whispered.

"For what?"

"Mess. I—"

"Shut up, Cas. Don't worry about the mess."

"I should—"

"What did I say? No talking, just sleeping." He pulled the towel out from under Castiel's head and wiped the blood off of his face. He tried to ignore Castiel's gaze following him as he moved. "Stop it," Dean finally said. "Just close your eyes." He waited for Castiel to close his eyes before he continued to clean his face. "Just get better."

Castiel closed his eyes and Dean took note of how easily he gave into his command.

"I'll be fine," Castiel whispered, struggling to open them again. He opened them enough to see Dean holding the bloodied towel in front of his face.

"If figured. But until then, you got me… and Sam taking care of you. Got it?"

Castiel nodded and let his eyes slide closed.

When Dean was finished cleaning him up, he stood up and threw the towel into the bathroom. He knocked over his toiletry bag, sending it crashing to the floor. He winced when the crash echoed throughout the quiet room.

He sat back down on his bed, watching over Castiel. "I'm in this position too damn often," he sighed, rubbing his hand up and down his face.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam moving in his bed. "Which?"

"Sitting next to someone waiting for them to wake up."

"Someone you care about."

"Sure."

"Is Cas okay?" Sam asked, barely lifting his head off his pillow.

"He's fine, Sam."

"You tell him you love him?"

"Sam, shut up."

"Do you need my help?"

"I got him. Go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," Dean replied.

Sam smiled, recognizing the protectiveness emanating from his brother. "Team Free Will," Sam mumbled into his pillow. Sam's snoring filled the room a moment later.

Dean sat on the bed slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements and wake the slumbering angel.

He sighed as he ran his hand through Castiel's hair, his protectiveness changing to overprotectiveness. Sometimes, hated how right Sam was when he was drunk.

**Here is another one shot. I wrote it the night after the episode. I figured I could post this since I haven't updated anything else in a few weeks. I hope that it turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock.**


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